Gift of Fire

to get sucked into it so easily.”
    “You’ll have to be close to the vision to read the manuscript, and we’ll probably have to watch the thing recycle several times. I’ll take notes while you read aloud.”
    “If I give the order to get out, I don’t want any arguments.”
    “You won’t get any,” she assured him. She picked up the green crystal. “Funny, it doesn’t seem to be vibrating the way it was before. And the earrings don’t feel hot, either.”
    “We’ll see what happens. Hang on, here we go.” Jonas bent down and picked up the broken sword hilt.
    Nothing happened.
    Verity had tensed herself for the transition into the psychic corridor. It took her a few seconds to realize that the walls of the cell weren’t curving around her.
    “Jonas?”
    There was a stunned silence from Jonas. She could see his taut features in the harsh glow of the flashlight. His golden eyes blazed at her.
    “Jonas, what’s wrong?” she whispered.
    “It’s gone.” His voice was hoarse with bewildered frustration.
    “What’s gone?”
    “My talent. I’m empty inside. I can’t pick up a damned thing. Not one damned vibration. Whatever happened in here this afternoon has burned out my talent.”

 
    Chapter Nineteen
     
    A week after their return to Sequence Springs, Verity was closer to despair than she had ever been in her life. Everything had changed between her and Jonas. There was no more talk of marriage. No more planning for the baby. No more teasing, or squabbling, or joyous making up in bed. It wasn’t that Jonas didn’t touch her in bed. He did, but his lovemaking had undergone a critical change.
    Verity sensed a fierce desperation in him instead of the many levels of passion she had come to expect in recent months. It seemed he was trying to prove something, but she didn’t know what it was.
    The loss of his talent had hit him hard, Verity knew. She had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend there was nothing wrong, that his psychic ability would return soon. But Jonas had convinced himself that it was gone for good, and Verity secretly wondered if he was right.
    If his talent had been burned out of him, where did that leave her?
    She began to grow more and more anxious as Jonas retreated behind a wall of deepening silence. Perhaps he needed to go through some sort of mourning period, she told herself. The psychic talent had been the bane of much of his adult life, but it had been an integral part of him. Losing it must have been like losing a hand, or an arm, or one of the five senses. Verity forced herself to be understanding and undemanding. She took great pains to be good-natured and sweet.
    She didn’t nag him to finish the report for the Warwicks. She didn’t urge him to write any more articles for the academic journals. She temporarily shelved her big plans to have him do a piece on Renaissance weapons for
National Geographic.
And she didn’t bring up the subject of another consulting assignment.
    But the more understanding she became, the more Jonas withdrew. It was a frustrating spiral, and as she got more and more enmeshed in it all her old fears were revived. She was convinced that Jonas would leave again. And this time, she thought, he might go away for good.
    The bottom line here, she thought grimly, was that Jonas didn’t need her the way he once had. She was no longer his psychic anchor. She was merely his lover and the mother of his child—a child he had never planned to have.
    It was unfortunate that in the dead of winter, business was light at the No Bull Cafe. Verity had too much time to think.
    “When’s the wedding?” Laura Griswald asked at the end of the week. The two women were sharing a spa pool after hours. Crystal-clear water bubbled and steamed around them.
    “I’m not sure there’s going to be one,” Verity said quietly.
    “You mean you two haven’t talked marriage yet?” Laura’s brows arched in disbelief. “I thought for sure that when you came back from the vacation up north it would all be settled.”
    “I thought it was.”
    Laura leaned forward, her expression one of deep concern. “Verity, are you telling me that Jonas doesn’t want to marry you? He doesn’t want the baby?”
    “I don’t know what Jonas wants,” Verity said as she stood up and reached for her towel. “I’m not sure he knows, either.”
    “I can’t believe this. I was so sure everything would work out between you two.”
    “Men are a little more complicated than I